Appendix: Entries with “english” in John Florio's 1598 Italian-English dictionary

The Lexicons of Early Modern English

Early Modern English (EME) was spoken and written in Britain and British
America from the late fifteenth to the eighteenth centuries. The Lexicons
of Early Modern English (LEME), a project funded by the Social
Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, builds on the Early
Modern English Dictionaries Database (EMEDD; 1966-99), an online
resource of sixteen lexicons from 1530 to 1656 searchable by registered researchers.
LEME consists of a bio-bibliography of over 800 primary sources from
1480 to 1700 (a quarter of them manuscripts, surveyed for the first time),
a bibliography of 1450 secondary books and articles, searchable lexicons
(about one hundred at present), and a broader searchable corpus of period
literature.

EMEDD and LEME are steps towards making an EME period dictionary.
Word-entries in lexical texts from that period are an important source of
historical quotations for modern lexicographers. LEME draws on four
kinds of historical record: (a) bilingual dictionaries (which give English-language
equivalents for other European languages), (b) monolingual glossaries (which
usually translate `hard words' imported from other languages into easier
English words), (c) lexical encyclopedias such as herbals, medical compendia,
and law lexicons, and (d) miscellaneous treatises on language, grammars, thesauri,
and so forth. They offer complementary perspectives on how contemporaries
of Sir Thomas More, Shakespeare, Thomas Hobbes, and John Dryden understood
the English language at a time when the English dictionary, as we know it,
did not yet exist.

Nearly blinded from close reading, Randle Cotgrave published his huge
French-English dictionary in 1611. The years had taken their toll of him.
Like Samuel Johnson, who in 1755 defined `lexicographer' as “a harmless drudge”,
Cotgrave had few illusions about his craft. He pointedly explains the French
phrase “Pont aux asnes” (the ass's bridge) as “Any shift, euasion, helpe
at a pinch for th'ignorant; any ease, or direction vnto dull, or vnlearned
people, for the resolution of difficulties which otherwise they cannot conceiue;
as, a Dictionarie; and, in Logicke, the conuersion of Propositions” (Cotgrave,
“Oreille d'asne”).[1] He presents
lexicography and logic as bridges for lesser minds. The phrase, “ass's bridge”,
originates in the geometric figure that conventionally illustrates the fifth
proposition of Euclid's Elements, that the base angles of an isosceles
triangle are equal. This figure looks like a bridge truss that is too steep
for a horse to cross, but manageable for a donkey. Cotgrave's allusion to
the “ass's bridge” predates the earliest OED example (“ass”, n.1,
ca. 1780) by 150 years.

Ass's bridge or not, an Early Modern English period dictionary is,
in the humanities, equivalent to a scientific “grand challenge”. Twenty years
ago, Richard Bailey and his colleagues at Ann Arbor published a collection
of materials for one that documented 4,400 words which antedate their first
recorded occurrence in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED),
or which are not there at all. These antedatings came from the Early Modern
English Dictionary project (EMED) initiated at Ann Arbor in the 1920s by
the visionary Charles C. Fries. Huge projected costs and a task that proved
to be much larger than the OED itself contributed to the lapsing of
the project. Other projects have since revived this dream. Bror Danielsson
in 1974 projected DEMP: A Dictionary of Early Modern English. Robin Alston,
followed by Greg Waite at the University of Otago, proposed a Tudor glossary
of Literary English. The late Jürgen Schäfer proved the inadequacy
of Early Modern English citations in the first OED. The early Oxford
lexicographers had used major authors like Shakespeare too much and excerpted
too little from neologistic writers like Thomas Nashe. In
his Early Modern English Lexicography (1989), Schäfer went on
to survey 133 English glossaries from 1480 to 1640 and developed from them
some 5,000 entries that add to or correct the OED. Schäfer still
believed that the OED would serve all our needs because he did not
computerize the texts of these 133 glossaries.

The two dozen diverse lexical texts in the LEME primary bibliography
that date from 1595 to 1599 illustrate the typically rich mix of language
information in works of the period. Besides John Florio's A Worlde of
Wordes (1598) and John Minsheu's Spanish-English dictionary (1599; both
already in the EMEDD), bilingual lexicons include Andrew Duncan's Latin
grammar with a Latin-English dictionary (1595), Simon Sturtevant's English-Latin
glossary of Greek words (1597), and Cornelius Gerritszoon's vocabularies
for the island of St. Lawrence, the Bay of Tangil, and East India. The first
general hard-word glossary appears, Edmund Coote's The English Schoole-maister
(1596). John Gerard contributes two botanical works, a catalogue
of plants in his garden (1596) and his famous herbal (1597). Four hard-word
glossaries of medical simples turn up, three by John Banister, Christoph
Wirsung, and Oswaldus Gaebelkhover, and one in British Library Sloane MS
1032. Other hard-word glossaries document Biblical words, Turkish terms used
in Giovanni Minadoi's Warres betweene the Turks and the Persians (1595),
and the vocabularies of hawking, hunting, fowling, and fishing (W. G. Faulkner),
alchemy (Roger Bachon), warfare (Robert Barret), classical goddesses (Thomas
Rogers), logic (Thomas Blundeville), and rhetoric (Angel Day). A glossary
for Chaucer's works and John Marston's commentary on hard words in “The Scourge
of Villanie” are printed in 1598, and The Theatre of the Earth, a pocket
place-name dictionary by John Thorius, in 1599.

Bilingual lexicons give, for words or phrases, their translations
in one or more other languages or registers. Usually neither headword nor
equivalent is explained, as the entry, “Agognanti cani, howlyng dogges”,
from William Thomas's Italian-English lexicon (1550) shows. We may know the
sense of the Italian or the English phrases, of course, but the lexicographer
does not explain it with a phrase like “curs continuously barking”. However,
these post-lemmatic explanatory segments are richer, word for word, with
information about our language than are monolingual hard-word glossaries.
Bilingual works not in EMEDD, but added to LEME, include Sir
Thomas Elyot's Latin-English dictionary (1538), Welsh-English lexicons by
William Salesbury (1548) and in British Library Add. MS 15048 (ca. 1580),
English-Latin and Latin-English dictionaries by John Withals (1553) and William
Lily (1567), Spanish-English dictionaries by Antonio del Corro (1590) and
William Stepney (1591), and the Algonquin-English glossary by William Strachey
(1612). As well, thanks to the collaboration of the Perseus Project, LEME
will have Thomas Cooper's Latin-English dictionary (1584) and John Florio's
second Italian-English dictionary (1611). These, too, tend to be neglected.
The OED extracts only about 6,500 quotations from the over-200,000
entries in the sixteen dictionaries in the EMEDD. Almost half, 3,000,
are from Thomas Blount's Glossographia (1656). None appears from Thomas
Thomas (1587), Robert Cawdrey (1604-17), and John Garfield (1659); only one
each from John Palsgrave (1530) and Edmund Coote (1596). There are 516 quotations
from 26,000 entries in Sir Thomas Elyot's Latin-English dictionary of 1538
(the first English book to be called a dictionary), 898 from about 50,000
in Cooper's Thesaurus (1565), and 1,054 from 70,000 in John Florio's
second Italian-English dictionary (1611).

These bilingual lexicons have linguistically fascinating English
explanations, full of synonyms and idioms, but the word-entries are alphabetized
by foreign-language headwords so that the only way to look up English words
in paper editions is by scanning the text manually. Converted to a searchable
database, these texts open up their wealth of information about the English
language. Consider word-entries in John Florio's first Italian-English dictionary
(1598; see appendix) that use the word “English”. Nine, a third of them,
add information to the OED. Florio thought “terwort”, “set-wort”,
“prick-pride”, “lust-pride”, “ship-like bone”, and “verdacchi” were English
words, but I cannot find them in the OED. There are also two antedatings
(“bear's foot” and “Abraham's balm”), two post-datings (“enpossess” and “sun-stead”),
occasional novel denotations (such as “ghing” as galley slaves), and mention
of something for which, it seems, no English word existed (a shrinking of
sinews in a horse). Many entries are gossipy and tell us things the OED
might not, such as that the French league at sea has three English miles.
Properly encoded, any uni-directional bilingual dictionary
can, in effect, be inverted and so made to serve English instead.

During Shakespeare's lifetime, the term “dictionary” meant only a
bilingual lexicon. If Renaissance authors ever considered Richard Mulcaster's
plea, in 1582, that English needed its own dictionary, and Sir Philip Sidney
and Ben Jonson did so briefly, they quickly dismissed the idea: that native
speakers needed to be taught their own tongue was thought absurd and demeaning.
Yet the flood of words from foreign languages into English caused many readers
trouble. For them, publishers put out hard-word glossaries, including Coote's
English Schoole-maister (1596), Cawdrey's Table (1604), John
Bullokar's Expositor (1616), and Henry Cockeram's Dictionarie
(1623): they prefigure later full English dictionaries. They all give easy
equivalents for difficult words, that is, for words either archaic or adopted
from other languages. Coote's word-entry, “define shew what it is”,
is an example: “shew what it is” can be used, Coote indicates, instead of
“define”. The earliest monolingual lexicons imitate the structure of bilingual
dictionaries.

Although usually English-only works too, lexical encyclopedias
explain things, not supply verbal equivalents. This class of texts in LEME
includes herbals by Richard Banckes (1525) and Nicholas Culpeper (1652),
law lexicons by John Rastell and John Cowell (1523, 1579, 1607), a glossary
of schemes and tropes by Richard Sherry (1550), a rhyming dictionary by Peter
Levins (1570), medical lexicons such as John Hall's Chirirgia parua Lanfranci
(1565), and Nicholas Culpeper's English physitian (1652), and dictionaries
of sea-terms like Henry Mainwaring's “Nomenclator Naualis” (1620-23). Their
explanations are referential, discussing the thing named by the headword,
often as if the headword itself (inflection, spelling, part of speech) were
irrelevant. The contemporary name for referential explanation is “logical
definition”, that is, the least wordy complete description of a thing that
differentiates it from anything else. Because some in the Renaissance, notably
John Florio, thought of words as things, and thus as things, words themselves
were susceptible to logical definition, but this type of non-lexical definition
seldom classified senses. A word's logical definition gave information like
spelling, etymology, equivalencies in other languages, usage restrictions,
sound correspondences in English, grammatical part of speech, and things
denoted. The word itself remained empty of content, a sign-thing that pointed
to or labeled other things outside it, but the word as sign could nonetheless
be described uniquely so as to distinguish it for native speakers.

The most important classes of miscellaneous works are grammars, etymologies,
and thesauri, also neglected. The OED also took only one quotation
from ten principal English grammars from that of William Bullokar (1586)
to that of Jeremiah Wharton (1654). Proper-name glossaries, including the
manuscript by Sir John Dodderidge (British Library Sloane MS 3479), show
the interest in etymology as a tool for characterizing the world. By the
mid-seventeenth century, concept-mediated lexicons, that is, thesauri, appear.
John Wilkins' An essay towards a real character, and a philosophical language
(1668) pioneers the modern lexicon for which philosophers and scientists
were then pressing. Wilkins uses a definition, not to explain some thing,
but to define a word precisely as denoting a mental concept that mediates
between the word and the thing. Here the rule-based logical definition has
shifted from the thing to the concept for the thing. Wilkins creates a universal
conceptual framework and then embeds it in semantics, as in his entry for
“utensils”:

Such kind of Vtensils as serve to contain
other things, are usually called VESSELS, Cask, Receptacle,
Pan, Plate, &c. These are distinguishable by their Matter,
Shapes and Uses, into such as serve for the Keeping and carriage
of things; being either Pliable to the things they contain; whether
more loose: or more close ....

This shift away from thing-based explanation to onomasiology follows
from skepticism (for which Sir Francis Bacon's idols of the tribe gave ample
grounds) that words can be trusted as labels for things. The OED only
recognizes, quite late, an English sense of the word “definition” that is
lexical. Readers interpret the explanations or definitions for headwords
in concept-based lexicons as modifying the headword, the lexical unit. Wilkins
marked the beginning of what might be termed the Great Definition Shift,
which transferred the logical definition of the thing, pointed to by a word,
to that word itself as a lexical definition. This shift was hardly sudden.
Even Samuel Johnson, almost one hundred years later, did not believe in lexical
definitions.

The Web-based LEME is being prototyped in two forms. It is
a textbase, currently searchable by lexeme (normalized headword) and in full
text by XTeXT. There are 600,000 word-entries or about six million words
of lexical text. LEME is also growing into an Access database that
will give readers lemmatized, annotated word-entries. LEME is planned
for distribution and licensing by the University of Toronto Press, and for
prioduction by the University of Toronto Library. To judge from the technologies
being prototyped now, LEME will be a considerable improvement on the
EMEDD.

Because LEME uses original language materials in order to
show what the Renaissance thought its own language was, it takes seriously
Charles Fries' interest in “contemporary comments” on words, whether they
are right or wrong in our eyes. Post-1700 theories of word-meaning -- what
we think -- play no part in LEME word-entries. An historical
principle, for this reason, informs LEME encoding practice. Although
every LEME-encoded text must be sufficiently well-formed for conversion
into an SQL database, the LEME encoding language must be simple enough
to allow for the many varied structures of EME lexicons. Principal LEME
elements are the word-group (for example, alphabetical or topical headings),
the word-entry, and its two nested subelements, the “form” and the “explanation”.
The encoding suggests a bilingual dictionary. LEME form and explanation
are not headword and definition, as they would be today, but two equivalent
units. Entries like Robert Cawdrey's “fuluide, yealow” (1617) receive two
lemma attributes: the first time for the “hard” word by which he alphabetizes
the entry, the second for the “easy” word with which he explains it. LEME
does not encode for either lexical definition or sense because, except in
certain sciences, English speakers were familiar instead with “logical definition”,
the sufficient description of a thing in the world.

The LEME research group now consists of research assistants
Jennifer Roberts Smith and Anna Guy, Access/Cold Fusion programmer Dr. Marc
Plamondon, digital librarian Sian Meikle, and myself as director. Transcription,
encoding, and bibliography are shared activities that usually go hand-in-hand
with personal research. Jennifer Roberts Smith draws information from LEME
that contributes to her doctoral research on Shakespearean prosody. I have
reported findings on research topics such as the herbal source for the name
of Shakespeare's first villain, Aron in Titus Andronicus, the concepts
of definition in Early Modern English, the first English dictionary, and
manuscript sources of lexical data. That a database of word entries from
old dictionaries can be useful has surprised some researchers accustomed
to using the OED and, very occasionally, paper facsimile reprints
of early dictionaries.

One of the principal applications of LEME will likely be in
editorial annotation. For example, Sir John Dodderidge's manuscript lexicon
of proper names covers Early Modern English words seldom explained in period
dictionaries. Shakespeare's first villain and Moor,Aron, in Titus Andronicus,
for example, is named after a common English weed, a black-spotted member
of the dragon family. Iago and his wife Emily in Shakespeare's Othello
also have significant names. Dodderidge says Iago is “in frenche Iaques”:
this leads us to the melancholic Jacques in As You Like It. Dodderidge
resolves Emily's name to “Emme or Amy Goodnurse”. Thus Emily, Desdemona's
lady in waiting, resembles the Nurse to Juliet in Romeo and Juliet.
We also learn something about minor characters. Desdemona's father Brabantio
takes his name from the region around Antwerp and is associated with Randle
Cotgrave's Meurte de Brabant, “The sweet shrub Gaule, or sweet Willow; the
Dutch Mirtle tree”. This may explain why the “song of `willow'” is in Desdemona's
mind on the night when Othello murders her (IV.iii.28). Her mother's maid
had sung the song to her, and her father, whose name recalls its subject,
had objected to her marriage to Othello.

These examples show how early lexicons can improve our reading
of Shakespeare, by far the most widely read EME author. They illuminate the
now-obscure things in the world which his words denote. A speech by the Queen
to Cloten in Shakespeare's Cymbeline III.i.15-34, a passage that recalls
John of Gaunt's patriotic description of England in Richard II, illustrates
how editorial annotation will benefit from LEME.

15 That opportunity
16 Which then they had to take from's, to resume
17 We haue againe. Remember Sir, my Liege,
18 The Kings your Ancestors, together with
19 The naturall brauery of your Isle, which stands
20 As Neptunes Parke, ribb'd, and pal'd in
21 With Oakes vnskaleable, and roaring Waters,
22 With Sands that will not beare your Enemies Boates,
23 But sucke them vp to'th'Top-mast. A kinde of Conquest
24 Cæsar made heere, but made not heere his bragge
25 Of Came, and Saw, and Ouer-came: with shame
26 (The first that euer touch'd him) he was carried
27 From off our Coast, twice beaten: and his Shipping
28 (Poore ignorant Baubles) on our terrible Seas
29 Like Egge-shels mou'd vpon their Surges, crack'd
30 As easily 'gainst our Rockes. For ioy whereof,
31 The fam'd Cassibulan, who was once at point
32 (Oh giglet Fortune) to master Cæsars Sword,
33 Made Luds-Towne with reioycing-Fires bright,
34 And Britaines strut with Courage.

A non-exhaustive survey of two hundred years of representative editorial
glosses for expressions in this passage shows that, besides describing Neptune,
Caesar, and Cassibelan, Shakespeare editors comment on about half-a-dozen
words: “resume” (16), “brauery” (19), “Parke” and “ribb'd” (20), “Oakes”
(21), “Baubles” (28), and “giglet” (32). LEME improves on their commentaries
by giving richer detail about the concrete things conventionally labelled
by three of these words.[2]

A few editors correctly cite the legal meaning of the first, “park”,
as OED, sense 1a (“An enclosed tract of land”), but most are uncomfortable
with Shakespeare's transference of this sense to a water-world. No one cites
OED, sense 6, “An enclosed area in which oysters are bred ...”, which
is attested from 1603 to 1883. Presumably James I would not appreciate having
his ancestors compared to oysters. However, word-entries in lexicons by Thomas
Thomas (1587) and John Minsheu (1599) are more applicable. A park can be
“a lock in a riuer, a solewse, a floud gate or water stop”, “a fish-poole”.
Shakespeare would have seen these things from time to time and, unlike ourselves,
would have referred to enclosed bodies of water that protect living things
as parks.

Second, editors widely gloss the word “Baubles” as “toys” or “trifles”,
following OED, sense 3, “A showy trinket or ornament such as would
please a child, a piece of finery of little worth, a pretty trifle, a gewgaw”,
an explanation confirmed by Florio's synonym-list, “toyes, vanities, bables,
iests, nifles, fooleries, fopperies”. OED, sense 1, goes further,
identifying the concrete thing back of this term, the fool's bauble, but
Randle Cotgrave's French-English dictionary (1611) tells us more about Shakespeare's
usage in translating “Vitette” as “A verie little pricke, bable, member”.
If (as seems likely) Shakespeare's term “Shipping” in this speech means a
fleet of men-of-war, we should remember that sailors described such ships
as if they were women being ridden by men. A section entitled “How to chuse
a Ship fit to make a man of warre” in John Smith's Sea Grammar (1627)
makes this association.

IN Land seruice we call a man of warre a Souldier either
on foot or horse, and at Sea a Ship, which if she be not as well built, conditioned,
and prouided, as neere fitting such an imploiment as may be, she may prove
(either) as a horseman that knoweth not how to hold his raines, keepe his
seat in his saddle and stirrops, carry his body, nor how to helpe his horse
with leg and spur in a curuet, gallop, or stop; or as an excellent horseman
that knoweth all this, mounted vpon a Iade that will doe nothing, which were
he mounted according to his experience, hee would doe more with that one,
than halfe a dozen of the other though as well prouided as himselfe.

Among concrete nautical things, then, the term “Baubles” may have
a sexual connotation as the man-of-war's weapon, or, as the OED says
with a straight face, his “stick with a mass of lead fixed or suspended at
one end, used for weighing, and apparently for other purposes”. That Shakespeare
intended a sexual innuendo becomes plausible when we reread his words about
the “kinde of Conquest / Caesar here made”, his failed “bragge / Of Came,
and Saw, and Ouer-came”, his “shame”, and Cassibulan's mastering of “Caesars
sword”.

The third word is “giglet”, for which mildly nonplussed editors
supply, time after time, the antiquated OED word, “strumpet”. Only
Furness tells us that the OED admits the term is “Of obscure origin”,
that is, that he and it do not know why this word describes prostitutes and
the faithless lady Fortune. The word “giglet” turns up, unexplained, in 1582
among the 8,000 English headwords that Richard Mulcaster believed
should form the core of a wished-for monolingual dictionary of English, but
earlier Italian-English dictionaries by William Thomas (1550) and John Florio
(1598) give us a more satisfying context. A giglet or giglot is a Florentine
coin “stamped with the flower-de-luce”, that is, with the lily, or (as Cotgrave
says) “Th'Imperiall Lillie, or Crowne Imperiall; a great, beautifull (but
stinking) flower”. Thus Shakespeare means that Fortune is money, and what
does money buy but things that are lovely but stinky? When Shakespeare uses
the word “giglot” to mean “strumpet”, he conceivably has that lily-stamped
Florentine coin in his mind. LEME can also highlight which of the
various word-senses that the OED recognizes for a word applies in
a given speech. For example, most editors explain “brauery” as aggressive
courage in the field. Thomas Thomas and Cotgrave, however, stress what the
OED, in sense 3d, defines as “A thing of beauty” (attested from 1583
to 1657). Parks, oaks, roaring waters, and sands belong to the beautiful
garb in which England's isle is clothed.

Language data will also help editors of Shakespeare and other EME
authors decide what readings merit emendation. Some popular editions today
emend “Oakes” into “banks”, but clearly “Oakes” -- the 1623 folio reading
-- does nicely. Shakespeare imagines Neptune's park “ribb'd” like a ship's
sides (as Minsheu's example shows), and ships, like other “strong” places
(as Thomas Thomas says), were built from good English oak.

The primary language resources of the British Renaissance are delightful
in their richness. Only once they are searchable in well-appointed databases
and textbases will researchers be able to appreciate them. In time, in LEME
and other, similar projects, these texts will go online, where they will
be available for the hoped-for future Early Modern English period dictionary.
And why should that great work be done? It will aid everyone in understanding
the still murky language that Shakespeare spoke and that underlies our own
speech today.

Notes

[1] Quotations
from the lexical works by Randle Cotgrave, John Minsheu, Thomas Thomas, John
Florio, William Thomas, Robert Cawdrey, and Richard Mulcaster are from EMEDD.

[2] I do not name
the editors responsible for these annotations because my purpose is to illustrate
the usefulness of historical dictionaries rather than to re-edit Shakespeare's
text.

Works Consulted

Alston, R. C. 1974. A Bibliography of the English Language from
the Invention of Printing to the Year 1800. A Corrected Reprint of Volumes
I-X. Ilkley: Janus Press.

Bailey, Richard W. 1985. “Charles C. Fries and the Early Modern English
Dictionary”. In Nancy M. Fries, ed. Toward an Understanding of Language:
Charles Carpenter Fries in Perspective. Amsterdam: Benjamins. 171-204.Danielsson,
Bror. 1974. “Proposal for DEMP: A Dictionary of Early Modern English”. Neuphilologische-Mitteilungen
75: 492-500.

Appendix: Entries with “english” in John Florio's 1598 Italian-English
dictionary

Asfalto, a kinde of drug or gum that burneth. Also a kinde
of medicament. Also the English Galingale. Some take it for a kinde
of wilde Oliue. Also our ladies Rose or Rose of Ierusalem.

Braccé sca licentia, as we say in English,
Stafford law.

Camé drio, the herbe Germander or English
Treacle.

Casamatta, a kinde of fortification called in English
a Casamat or a slaughter house, and is a place built low vnder the wall or
bulwarcke, not arriuing vnto the height of the ditch seruing to skoure the
ditch, annoying the enemie when he entreth into the ditch to skale the wall.

Cássia, a drugge, called so in english.

Ciurma, the common rascalitie of gallie slaues, a base
route. The mariners call it in Englishghing.

[OED “ging”, 3b, first cited 1594: “spec. The crew of
a ship or boat. Cf. gang.” a definition that does not mention galley slaves.]

Helléboro, an herbe whereof there be two kindes,
as Helleboro bianco, which is called in English Lingwoort, the roote
whereof maketh neesing powder. The other Helleboro negro, and in EnglishBeares-foote, Terwoort, or Set­woort. It is vsed to purge
melancholie.

[OED “lingwort”, as white hellebore, first cited 1538;
“bear's foot” first cited in “helleboraster” in 1663-64; I do not find “terwort”
and “set-wort” in the OED]

In, is also verie much vsed in composition of other words
as a signe of priuation as we vse vn in english, as Incapace, Infelice,
Intrépido, vncapable, vnhappie, fearelesse, &c. It is also vsed
in composition for to put, to enter, or worke in, as Insignorirsi, to enpossesse
himselfe, Intrapónere, to enterpose, Incauare, to dig in, or worke
hollow, &c. [OED “empossess”, only cited twice ca. 1500.]

Lega, a league, a confederacie, a truce, an agreement
or condition. a french league, that is two english miles by lande
and three by sea. The aloy, qualitie or worth of gold or siluer that is coyned,
as we say sterling: the solder, to solder, vnite or combine mettals togither.
Also a kinde of measure of corne so called in Italy.

Mantiglia, a kinde of clouted creame called a foole or
a trifle in English.

[OED “trifle” and “fool”, first cited in Florio.]

Mis, an adiunct added to verbes or nounes to alter the
sense of them, to a contrarie or bad signification, as Mis, in English.

Passina, Passino, a space or measure containing about
three yards english measure.

Pori, small and vnsensible holes whereby the sweate and
vapours passe out of the body by the skin, called in English pores.
Looke Poro, the singular of Pori.

Priapismo, the office of the god of gardins, of,
or pertaining to a mans priuities, or the standing of a mans yard, which
is when the yard is stretched out in length and breadth, nothing prouoking
the pacient to lust or desire. If it come with a beating and panting of the
yard the phisicions call it then Satiriasi. Called also in English
priapisme, pricke-pride, or lust-pride.

Pterigio, a skin growing from the corner of the eie, and
in continuance couering the sight. Also the going away of the flesh from
the naile with great paine, or the little peeces of skin that sometimes rise
about the nailes at the fingers endes called in English wort-whales
or liureges, or as some thinke a swelling of the flesh ouer the naile.

[OED “wortwale” and “liverage”, the latter first from
Florio.]

Querció la, herbe Germander or English treacle.

Repolóni, Looke Maneggiare a repoloni, is when
a horse doth gallop in a right path, and still returneth in the same, in english
it is now called a Repelone.

[OED “repolon”, Florio's citation the first.]

Serpentina, as Serpentélla, a kind of ordinance,
bumbard or artillerie called a serpentine, sakre or a base. Also a kinde
of stone. Also a kinde of winding limbecke or still called a serpentine or
double SS, in English. Also as Serpentella. Also a kind of
ring worme or fashions in a horse or such creeping disease.

Solstitio, the staie of the sunne when he can
go neither higher nor lower, which is in winter the 8. calends of Ianuarie,
and in sommer the 8. calends of Iulie, at what time the daies be shortest
and longest, called in English the sun-stead.

[OED “sun-stead” has two early citations, ca. 1000 and
1600.]

Staio, Staro, a measure like an english bushell.

Staphóide, the thirde bone of the foote called
of Osso nauiforme, which is put next to the ankle in the inside of the foote,
called in Englishthe ship-like, or bote-like bone. [I do not
find “ship-like” in the OED; “boat-like bone” is not in the OED,
but see “boat-bone” under “bone”, n. 3.]

Tiro di nerui, a shrinking of sinewes. Italian riders
saie it is a disease in a horse which commeth of great cold and heat; whereby
the great sinew in the necke is so restrained as the horse cannot open his
mouth: there is no English name for it.

Tritico, all manner of corne that may be ground, we call
it in english greest, but it is properly red wheate.

Ventaréllo, as Ventaglio. Also a pleasant or small
gale of winde. Also a piece of a card or paper cut like a crosse, and with
a pin put in at the end of a sticke, which running against the wind doth
twirle about. our English children call it a wind-mill.

Verdacchij, certaine kinds of green plums so called
in English. [not in OED?]

Vitice, a kind of withie or willow, called in
English parkeleaues, chastetree, hemp tree or Abrahams balme.